Pura Vida
by sweet-surrender5
Summary: GSR, WIP. What happens after the last scene in 9x10. A short WIP to tie up the ends of the greatest 'ship ever to set sail in my imagination. M for mild scenes of geeklove.


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a/n: Ok, so my take on what happened after the infamous scene. This is going to be a WIP, but it won't go on too long; maybe five, six, chapters at the most. I just wanted to give GSR a little more closure. Because otherwise, Gil and Sara would be standing in the middle of the rainforest for the rest of time...it leaves a lot of loose ends. So here it is. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or CBS. Billy, on the other hand...well, he owns the key to my heart... ;)

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"You know, I still can't believe you're here."

Sara's eyes met Grissom's over the top of her water bottle. They shone with a radiance he hadn't seen this unbridled in years. He leaned back against her desk, legs crossed in front of him, just watching her. Sunspots filtered through the ragged edge of the tent's entrance, leaving circles of sunlight on her tanned body.

"I decided it was my time to go."

Sara set down the bottle and looked at him for a long time, taking in his tousled appearance. He'd obviously done the hike-in alone; which was a feat in itself. But it was obvious to both of them that although his knees were aching and his back on fire, he was happy nonetheless.

"I didn't think you'd ever leave," she said quietly, but solemnly.

Grissom ran the back of his hand across his brow and sat the straw hat on the desk.

"Neither did I."

She crooked her head to the side, smiling that secret smile she reserved only for him. They shared a tender look as grasshoppers chirped outside, answered by the friendly rustle of palm leaves. The sides of the tent flapped lightly against themselves, marking the beat of the breeze.

Suddenly the sound of a pot clanging on the other side of the fabric shook them both out of their reverie. Sara flinched, as if only just becoming aware of how long they had stared at each other. Sheepishly she peered outside, then back to Grissom.

"You must be starving! Oh my God, why hadn't I asked before? I--"

"— you know, I didn't actually notice until just now." Grissom cut her off in the middle of her panicked rambling, "Calm down, honey. I'm in no rush."

She cocked her head towards the clearing at the front of the tent.

"Want to meet everyone?"

The corner of his lip shot up in a half-grin.

"If this 'everyone' you speak of has food, then yes."

He followed her back outside, where the sun graced his face from above the thick rainforest foliage. He watched her slender body move along the dirt trail easily, obviously toned and muscled from all her hiking as of late. Her hair was different – untamed, but in a beautiful, natural sort of manner. In short, just seeing her for the first time had taken his breath away.

He would hold that memory forever, he decided. Walking the last few yards of the trail to the camp, heart constricted with the apprehension of seeing her again. He honestly hadn't known how she'd react. All he knew is that he wanted to see her. No, _needed _to see her. It was the only thing that had kept him going on the 6 mile trail through untouched rainforest.

And suddenly she was in front of him. Her familiar shape, facing away as she held a camera up to her eye. She always did have a creative manner of photographing things – even if it was a crime scene. Grissom had always admired that.

Before he could even think of what to say, she had turned. She smiled. He dropped the heavy pack from his back and then they were together, his mouth on hers, his hands pulling her as close as he possibly could.

He was broken out of his thoughts as he followed Sara into the kitchenette tent. A stocky-looking man of about thirty or so was laying pieces of bread along a collapsible picnic table. He smiled as Sara walked in, revealing a perfect row of white teeth. Although the two looked quite different, Grissom had an immediate impression of Nicky; the classic male jock physique.

"What's on the menu?" Sara asked, reaching for the cooler. Grissom watched the man to make sure his eyes weren't wandering. They weren't. Sara extracted a carton of orange juice from the plastic box.

"Corned beef on rye," the man answered cheerily, "everyone wanted someone come up early to get lunch started. I drew the short straw. Oh, and hummus for you."

He turned to put the bag of bread back on a wooden shelf and caught Grissom's eye.

"Oh! We have a newcomer. Who's your friend?" The man said. The guy seemed nice enough; but there was something about him that Grissom just didn't like.

"Elliot, this is Gil, my--" Sara started to say, but cut herself off. Grissom noticed Sara's gaze shift sharply to him, and then away again.

"Gil Grissom," he interjected, extending a hand to the man, "a pleasure to meet you."

Elliot's thick fingers encased Grissom's over the table and bread.

"Likewise. So, you must be the bugman, huh?"

Grissom noticed his eyes flick to his shirt, where a logo for last years' entomology convention in Boston lay on his chest. Grissom's own gaze was directed at Sara, who pursed her lips and pretended to be deeply immensed in the ingredients on the juice container.

"Sara has been telling us about you. She didn't tell us you were coming, but it's great to have you on board! We could use a guy who knows his stuff out here. What's that we got now, Sara?"

"Two wildlife biologists, three bird specialists, four environmentalists, one geological analyst, and…"

"…a partridge in a pear tree?" Grissom finished.

"I was going for me, but that's good, too," Sara replied, her smile evident in her voice.

"So that makes sixteen, then. Plus me. Where is everybody? And where do they stay?" Grissom asked.

"Everyone has a tent of their own, not too far from here," answered Elliot as he proceeded to open a can of corned beef, "we have full electricity here at base, as well as internet access. But that's only here – satellite thing, I guess."

Grissom nodded, although he already knew Sara had access to the internet. She'd sent him a few emails since she'd been gone. Had it really been three months since she left Vegas for the second time?

"Well," said Elliot, as the sounds of voices grew outside the tent, "we have some hungry campers. You better grab something up soon, or you're gonna miss out!"

The sun went down faster than he had remembered it would. It had been a while since Grissom had last been in the rainforest. A good sixteen years, now that he thought on it. He had always wanted to come back, but he never found the time to leave the lab. He couldn't leave, because he knew that if he did, he'd never go back.

Obviously that wasn't the issue now.

Most of the introductions with the rest of the crew had gone on at lunch, and now, after dinner, they sat around a small fire pit, feeling the cool of the night fall upon them. Grissom sat across from Sara, leaning back in his chair and watching her contentedly as she laughed with the others. One of the biologists, his name was Ray, Grissom thought, was telling of his exploits in Russia.

Grissom wasn't particularly listening, but he got the jist of the conversation. No, most of his attention was on her; the warm, rosy glow of the flames on her cheeks, the glimmer of light in her dark pupils, the gap-toothed smile that seemed to fill him wholly with its cheeriness.

Sara was different now.

She was happy.

Elliot brought out an acoustic guitar at some point, long after the sun had gone down, and was singing a soft tune when Sara's eyes caught Grissom's across the fire. It had been happening all night, their gazes meeting unavoidably, almost magnetically, in the light of the flames. But this time, this time they held it, unwavering, watching the light dance on each other's faces.

And Grissom knew.

He knew that Sara was not only happy. That was not the only thing that had changed. As he watched her slowly get up from her seat and nod her head into the darkness behind her, Grissom knew that something inside Sara had been released; something had found its meaning.

Sara was now, in his eyes, and finally in her own, a woman. She was nothing but; she was no longer the helpless, empty framework of a lady, she was no longer the unsure, unstable, ever-curious being caught between two halves.

Sara was a powerful, gorgeous woman. She had finally found that in herself.

He stood up too, excusing himself politely from the circle. The others watched as the two disappeared into the darkness, heading hand-in-hand for Sara's tent.

Grissom's breath hitched slightly as Sara lead him down the black path. He felt his heart beating rapidly, just as it had done when he arrived.

Six months. Six months had passed since Sara initially left. Half of an entire year without her. Sure, he'd seen her at Warrick's funeral, but she hadn't stayed for long. She'd given him an ultimatum – go with her, or stay. He'd stayed. But he eventually came to his senses and wrapped things up at the lab. It was his time to go. He hadn't told her he was coming; he wanted it to be a surprise. Apparently, it was.

"I missed you," she said softly now, squeezing his hand. He reciprocated by swiping his thumb across her skin. She slowed down as they reached her tent once more. She slipped her hand from his to unfasten the clasps and held the flap up for him to step inside.

"How can you see?" he asked her as she followed him in. His eyes could not adjust fast enough in the dark jungle night. The jungle moon was not quite as visible as it was in the desert. He could hear her searching for something on the shelf by the tent's wall.

"You get used to the dark after a while. This whole 'no electricity' thing kind of grows on you," she replied.

Grissom heard a match strike paper, and a small orange glow was born in the blackness. It floated over to the desk, illuminating a candle in the weak ring of light. Then it floated to another candle, and another, until in the combined halos of light, he could see Sara blowing out the match.

A soft glow brought out the bronze in her skin as she set the match in a pool of wax. His heart fluttered pleasantly in his chest.

"You look beautiful."

Sara looked at him with a clarity that was new to him.

He stepped forward, his hand reaching to caress the soft skin of her cheek. Her hand covered his bigger, rougher one, and she leaned forward, her lips meeting his in a gentle kiss. His fingertips rested in the crease behind her strong jaw, holding her tenderly as he explored her mouth.

Soon, he was working his way to her neck, lips hungrily tasting her skin. He could smell coconut shampoo; a new scent on her, but a welcome one. Her hands were lost in his own hair, twirling the silvery curls with adoration. Things became heated very quickly after that. Her slender fingers deftly undid the buttons on his khaki shirt, his hands slid down to caress the skin of her hips.

He pulled away momentarily, looking down at the small cot beside the desk. He raised an eyebrow, and before he could even look back at her, she laughed. It was a _real _laugh, not one of the uneasy, nervous chuckles of Vegas. No, this was a pleasant tinkle of genuine laughter. She reached down and pulled her sleeping bag from the thin structure. With one fluid moment, she unzipped the fabric all the way around and laid it carefully on the ground. She then picked up a rolled-up blanket and laid that on top.

"Better?"

He nodded, words suddenly escaping him.

She stepped back, kicking off her shoes and standing on the sleeping bag. He watched as she pulled off her thin sweater, taking a sports bra with it. Arousal immediately flared through his lower regions. She sat down, her thin arms behind her, looking up at him.

"I need you," he blurted, staring at her exposed flesh.

She beckoned him forward with a flick of her head, her reddish waves of hair falling around her delicate face. He slipped off his own shoes and knelt in front of her. She kissed him hard this time, pulling him so that he had to shoot out his own arm to stop himself from falling on top of her. Hot kisses trailed along lips and chins and earlobes as pieces of clothing were lovingly discarded.

"Sara," Grissom said after a while, wearing only his boxers and his hair mussed quite fantastically.

"Mm?" She looked up at him, chocolate eyes wide with pleasure.

"You need to know something."

Grissom sat back for a moment, resting on his heels.

"I need you. I really do, honey. And I don't mean just…this. I mean all the time. I can't function without you anymore. I…I love you."

Sara bit her lip, eyes slightly tearing.

"I love you, too. I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

Sara's face broke out into a seductive grin.

"Now get back down here. You're not one to not finish what you started."

"I know," he replied, tenderly sliding apart her legs. He slid his body against hers, revelling in the heat of her.

And under the green canopy of the trees and tent, they make love. The humid air carried their soft whispers as fingers caressed salty, sweat-slicked skin. It was not long before they found their familiar rhythm, moving together in the perfect counter movements.

"Gil," Sara groaned, her nails tightening against his back. He rocked hard against her hips, knowing she was beckoning him for more. The sound of his name on her lips spurred him on even further. He could barely believe this was happening; this perfect moment, this secret fantasy of he and Sara and the hot humid air of Costa Rica.

"Please, honey," he begged quietly, his gruff tenor trembling with anticipation, "please, Sara…God, you're so…"

He reached for her leg, pulling it high over his rolling hips. His other hand was intertwined with hers, pinned over her head on the sleeping bag. Long shadows danced on the sides of the tent, flickering in the candlelight.

"Griss," she gasped, "yes…"

She was lost then, her back arching off of the ground and pressing her body against his. He fought for control, but lost in a fantastic outburst of pleasure as her muscles pulled him deep inside her warmth.

Her name echoed slightly on the forest breeze as they lay together. Grissom could barely breathe, but he pressed kisses against her perfect collarbone anyway, not wanting to stop.

Her fingertips absent-mindedly traced the scruffy line of his beard as they spoke quietly.

"So you actually left?"

"Yes."

"For good?"

"Catherine's in charge now."

Sara sighed, staring upwards as his head lay on her chest.

"That must have been hard for you."

"You know, it really wasn't all that bad. The hardest part was cleaning out my office, actually. I found the fetal pig, by the way. He was hiding behind the hornet nest fossil."

She laughed again, her hand moving to sit on top of his larger one.

"Where did you put it all?

"Home."

"The Henderson house?"

"Yeah. I sold the apartment."

She sat up, causing Grissom to do so, too.

"You did what?"

"I sold it."

"But you loved that place!"

"There was no point in keeping it, dear. It was empty."

Her eyebrows knitted.

"What are you doing about the rent? And what about your car? And…oh my God, I forgot about Hank."

Grissom let out a guffaw, smiling so that his teeth actually showed.

"I was wondering when you'd ask."

"Where is he?"

"I gave him to Nicky for the time being. I figured they'd get along pretty well."

Sara slid back down to the sleeping bag. Grissom stayed propped up on one arm. Both were thinking the same thing; what about the long term? But they knew it was not the time to discuss it.

Gil's eyes tenderly travelled around his fiancée's face, watching her watch him. He moved to slide between her legs once more, his lips, slower this time, finding the divot between her neck and clavicle.

"Whoa," she said, moving her hips so that she could feel him fully, "aren't you tired? I mean, that's a tough hike, and--"

"—I can't stop, Sar. Mm…not now, I don't want to waste this…"

"Oh, what's that? Who was the one saying 'there's no rush'?"

"Shh," he whispered as the candles dripped lower, "just once more."

It was slower the second time, a long, labourous session of lovemaking, in which Grissom had somehow ended up under her.

A while later, after she had blown out all the candles and laid her head on his broad chest, she sighed.

"_Pura vida_."

"Hm?" Grissom mumbled sleepily.

"It's a saying down here."

"What's it mean?"

"'This is living'."

His muscular arms encased her and he pulled her smooth body close. He buried his nose in her hair, the smell of coconut and her natural fragrance filling his tired head.

"If this is living," he whispered, "then why have we been wasting all this time?"

"Because if we hadn't wasted time, I doubt we'd be here," Sara speculated.

"Right," he concurred, "_pura vida."_

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a/n: Reviews are like hugs for the writer's soul. I promise fluff and hilarity if you click that little purple button...c'mon... : )


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